In the world all I can see is the surreal
Looking across the oceanic expanse of a reality filled to the brim with absurdity
Gazing up the imposing monolith before me
With the droning hum of the machine
As it projects only a few deafening thoughts onto me
The collective hands of its victims mold individuals en masse
"The only acceptable way to live is to serve"
They call it the "Real World"
A "Real" reality
A reality imposed
For no one
Dismay is met with an ironic position:
Cynical conformism followed by Stockholm syndrome
It's called growing up